Three Bridesmaids. Three lost loves. One matchmaking bride. With just a week before the wedding, can a bride-to-be reunite her bridesmaids with the ones who got away?
Brigid Anderson is a second year lawyer on a fast track to making partner. With the weight of her siblings' success on her shoulders, Brigid feels like she needs to prove something–to herself and to her parents. Her life is running smoothly and all according to plan...until she meets Grady.
Grady Coughlin understands focus and ambition, having taken over his father's contracting business and building it into a successful historic preservation business on his own. After a blind date with Brigid that ends in explosive passion, they embark on a friends with benefits relationship. But as Grady establishes himself in the business world, he decides he wants more and wants it with Brigid.
On the eve of her best friend's wedding, with her promotion to partner dangling within reach, Brigid believes Grady isn't the best partner to suit her career ambition. But Grady and her heart don't agree and she must decide if she should stick to the safety of the plan or find the courage to pursue what she really wants
He drew his hands up her back, pulling her shirt with them, up and over her head, so she sat there clad only in a red lace bra. He groaned. "Damn, that's a fine sight, Brigid. I thought you said you didn't pack any lingerie."
"I said I didn't pack any sexy nighties. I never said anything about bras or matching panties."
His head thudded against the sofa cushions even as one hand delved beneath her jeans to cup her ass and stroke the red lace that barely covered her. "Oh shit, that's fucking amazing."
She smirked. "Red is your favorite color, isn't it?"
"Anything you wear is my favorite," was his fervent reply.
He tugged her head back down for a kiss. She buried her fingers in his hair, holding him steady for her lips. She tasted of beer, barbecue and sweet wild Brigid, a taste he could get addicted to so easily. He flicked the back clasp on her bra and it gapped open. He pulled the straps off her shoulders until it sagged between them. He cupped one of her breasts, lifting it to his mouth to suck the nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. Brigid's head fell back with a low groan and she arched into his grasp. He plied the other sensitive tip with his fingers, twisting and tugging until she writhed on his lap, pleading for relief.
He chuckled against her skin and switched breasts, torturing the other the same way. She held his head tightly, fingers flexing in his scalp, kneading and massaging, her nails pricking his skin. He lifted her effortlessly and placed her on the sofa behind him. He stripped off his clothes quickly then her jeans, leaving the red panties.
He kneeled in front of her and stroked a finger over the seam of the red lace. "That's a pretty sight, Brigid. Sexy as hell."
And he pressed a kiss right to the center of the soaked lace. She arched her back with a choked cry then settled back against the cushions, moaning. His erection was like a steel spike but he had to taste her, had to explore her just a little. He pulled the lace aside and licked a path through her wet center, curling his tongue around her nub at the apex. She shouted at the contact, her hips arching and twisting. He grabbed them in his hands, holding her firmly in place while he settled in for a feast, licking, sucking, biting. Soon she was crying out loud, begging, pleading for relief. Finally, she came with a scream.
He stood and grabbed his jeans, pulling out the condom he had stashed there when she had shown up earlier. He sheathed himself and adjusted her so he was positioned at her entrance. He stroked her cheek lightly until she opened her eyes and smiled.
Before she could respond, he drove home with a slow, steady thrust deep inside to the hilt until he was balls deep in her. He paused once he was fully seated, his forehead against hers, sweat dripping off of him. She stroked his back lightly, and wrapped her legs around his waist, moving her hips against his in an insistent motion.
Obligingly, he began to move slowly, steadily even as she begged him to go faster. Quickly, though, his thrusts were deeper, harder, and she clenched around him, crying out her orgasm. He followed her over, sagging on the couch, only the sound of the wind, rain and their heavy breathing to be heard.
About the Author
Ever since Megan Ryder discovered Jude Deveraux and Judith McNaught while sneaking around the “forbidden” romance section of the library one day after school, she has been voraciously devouring romance novels of all types. Now a romance author in her own right, Megan pens sexy contemporary novels all about family and hot lovin’ with the boy next door. She lives in Connecticut, spending her days as a technical writer and her spare time divided between her addiction to knitting and reading.